Shiloh Ray never thought her life would end up with her being a part-owner of a saloon with her brothers in the Oklahoma Territory, but that was just what had happened six years after she and her brothers escaped a Confederate camp during the Civil War. She hadn't seen the soldier who'd helped them escape in all of that time, but he was never far from her thoughts. Yet he reenters her life at the same time the new doctor in town sets his sights on her, and she must decide whether to revisit her past or prepare herself for a new future.
The release is part of Beautiful Trouble Publishing's "Cowgirl Series".
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Shiloh turned to douse the rest of the lights, so many questions whirring through her mind. It had been four years since she'd seen him, since he'd guided her and her brothers to a Union camp under moonlight. She hadn't wanted to leave him in the midst of war, with the deafening reports of guns and the smell of smoke and burning flesh, and had tried in vain to convince him to stay with them. But he'd smiled, kissed her forehead, and promised he'd always be with her. Shiloh didn't know how that would've been possible when she nor her brothers had no idea where they were going after their escape; but they'd ended up West, and West was a lot of territory. Still, that hadn't stopped her heart from beating extra fast whenever she'd caught a glimpse of someone who could've been familiar. Funny how it remained steady when she finally did reunite with the man who'd changed her life so much.
Shiloh heard him stand and she glanced his way as she moved from behind the counter to the door. He approached but maintained space between them. She'd forgotten how tall he actually was, having to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. Then again, her brothers weren't tiny, either, but it was merely a tilt of the head to look at either of them. The lamps from the street provided a little light in the otherwise darkened saloon, but she wouldn't have needed that to know he was staring at her. The power of his eyes couldn't be ignored.
"I will walk you home," he said softly.
She shook her head and left the saloon, his footfalls thumping behind her on the plank steps. "That's unnecessary. It's just down the way. Within shoutin' distance."
"Your brother thought it fit to walk you there before he left."
"I'm a single woman and he thinks I can't take care of myself," Shiloh said, walking on to the boarding house. Nashoba's laugh seemed to curl into her ears, making her smile.
"You know that's not true. He just wants to make sure you don't have to, chilita. That is what one does for someone he holds dear."
Shiloh looked away from him to hide a blush he wouldn't be able to see even if it were high noon. Very rarely did someone speak to her with unadorned tenderness. Nashoba had called her brave and was still able to acknowledge the fact she was a woman. Even her brothers could be borderline crude with her, but that was their way. She didn't put up with foolishness or posturing, but that didn't mean a small, feminine part of her didn't want or appreciate soft words and gentle phrases. Granted, she preferred britches to the long skirts most women wore. She enjoyed the freedom and the ease with which she could move. She also thought that much fabric was a bit wasteful, and she didn't abide by unnecessary excess.
"It is the same reason why I am walking you back, Shiloh. That and because…"
He didn't respond, as if letting the memories of what happened between them all those years ago swirl between them. It had been intense, bringing about irrevocable changes for her, she knew; but she sensed for him as well. Definitely for his people. She couldn't help but hear of the battles going on throughout the territories between the Indians and the Army. But he was here, and at least the shell of him was whole.
"I've missed you too," she whispered, stealing a peek at him.
"Hmm," he intoned, stroking his chin. "Miha moma…"
Shiloh burst out laughing and shoved him lightly. "I will not say that again! You lucky you got that much out of me."
"I've gotten more than that in the past…"
She abruptly stopped walking, glad she had that excuse for she was at the boarding house. He turned to her, his lips tilted in a half grin. Shiloh looked down at her feet to hide her responding grin, the boots she wore dusty from the road and scuffed from age. A larger pair of boots, much newer and nicer, came into view, the tips of those touching the tips of hers.
"I will see you again," Nashoba said.
"In another four years?"
"Not quite that long," the deep voice replied. "Sleep well, chunkash champuli."
Sweetheart. Grinning wider, Shiloh kept her head bowed and didn't raise it again until she was sure Nashoba was out of sight.
(c) 2010 by Savannah J. Frierson
"Always Sweet" Bevin Moore's act of charity unsettles her in delicious ways.
"Welcome Home" Tim's return to an empty house from a three-month mission overseas wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind.
"TROLLING NIGHTS: INTERLUDES"
In conjunction with Aliyah Burke's latest release from her Megalodon Series Dimitri's Moon also Available Now!
Available Now!
Greek Alejandro Melonakos hadn't been shopping for the love of his life during a routine market run for his restaurant, yet that was exactly who he found. The petite and curvy American Samara Grossman had captured his heart upon his first sight of her and he hadn't wanted it back—just hers in return. Will AJ be able to convince Samara they were meant to be together during her five-day vacation in Athens, or will his serendipitous find be all for naught?
The release features a new cover and an extra chapter for readers to enjoy!
Greek Alejandro Melonakos hadn't been shopping for the love of his life during a routine market run for his restaurant, yet that was exactly who he found. The petite and curvy American Samara Grossman had captured his heart upon his first sight of her and he hadn't wanted it back—just hers in return. Will AJ be able to convince Samara they were meant to be together during her five-day vacation in Athens, or will his serendipitous find be all for naught?
The release features a new cover and an extra chapter for readers to enjoy!
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As the self-coronated queen of Trolling Nights, Rosita Velez has one edict: men are only good for one night, maybe two if she were feeling particularly benevolent. Yet somehow, her latest lover manages to stick around for one night...then two...then three...then four...and suddenly Rosita finds herself in the midst of a romantic coup, facing a decision that will change her life forever. Will Rosita abdicate her crown, or will she continue her reign of the one night stand?
The readout was missing a few letters. They spelled “Not”, as in “Not Pregnant”.
There was not a sound to be heard, a breath to be breathed, a pulse to be pulsed. Rosita and Bevin stared at each other, she on the commode and Bevin on the side of the tub. Her best friend’s golden eyes dropped to Rosita’s midsection.
“Lawdhavmercy,” Bevin rasped.
Rosita dropped the stick as if it had shot up a thousand degrees in one second and scrambled off the toilet. She stared wide-eyed at it, her mind telling her she’d suddenly become illiterate, that she did not read what she just read.
“No puedo leer en inglés,” Rosita muttered.
The shocked expression on Bevin’s midnight-hued face melted into one of amusement. “Yes, you can read English. Very well, in fact. Welcome to the club, Rosita.”
Rosita glared at Bevin, two seconds away from sticking out her tongue and cussing her out in fluent Spanish, when a knock on the door made them both jump.
“Damn! What?” Rosita snapped.
“Uh, are y’all okay in there?”
Rosita’s nostrils flared in frustration while Bevin’s flared for an entirely different reason. Rosita sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Hussy.”
Bevin glanced down at the stick, then raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Pot, kettle, innit?”
“Bevin?”
“We’re fine, baby,” Bevin called to her husband, taking a few squares of toilet paper to pick up the stick and throw it in the trash. “You need to use the bathroom?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’s my child?”
“With his godfather.”
“Is my child still alive?”
“Bevin,” came the sigh, and Bevin grinned, washing her hands.
“All right, my love, we’re on our way out,” she promised, cutting off the water and drying her hands on one of the towels. Bevin opened the door and giggled as Tim gathered her close and gave her a gentle kiss on the mouth.
Rosita pretended she didn’t notice any of this as she washed her hands as well, her heart squeezing at the possibility that could be her one day. Her and…
For as long as there have been Trolling Nights, Bevin Moore has been the unofficial official Gatekeeper for her group of friends, the Femme Crew. She is always the designated driver and always makes sure the ladies do not leave the premises with someone she considers a loser. Bevin takes her job very seriously, even if she doesn’t like Trolling Nights in the first place. Yet on one particular Trolling Night, she's completely unaware someone has, finally, chosen her.
Navy SEAL Timothy Capshaw has no problem going after what he wants; and from the moment he sees Bevin sitting alone and sentry-like in a booth, he is intrigued by her. After one dance, Tim knows he wants her. How will he convince Bevin he is the man she hasn't known she's been looking for and that the need for her Trolling Nights is over?
For as long as there have been Trolling Nights, Bevin Moore has been the unofficial official Gatekeeper for her group of friends, the Femme Crew. She is always the designated driver and always makes sure the ladies do not leave the premises with someone she considers a loser. Bevin takes her job very seriously, even if she doesn’t like Trolling Nights in the first place. Yet on one particular Trolling Night, she's completely unaware someone has, finally, chosen her.
Navy SEAL Timothy Capshaw has no problem going after what he wants; and from the moment he sees Bevin sitting alone and sentry-like in a booth, he is intrigued by her. After one dance, Tim knows he wants her. How will he convince Bevin he is the man she hasn't known she's been looking for and that the need for her Trolling Nights is over?
Tim Capshaw dangled the bottleneck between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, staring intently at the booth where the singular young woman with a curly bob stared sentry-like onto the dance floor. Tim wasn’t exactly sure why his eyes had stopped on her during his slow casing of the joint, but they had. Maybe it was because she looked so out of place—and it wasn’t because she was one of the few black bodies in the building. It was her rigid posture; the fact her black top covered more than exposed; and the fact there was an empty three-foot radius around her that was rarely broken by anything other than women or servers who would chat her up for a few seconds then leave her alone again. She didn’t seem sad or depressed, either, which further intrigued him. She looked comfortable in her skin, and to Tim, that was sexy as hell.
There was a continuous hum of sound in his left ear, and Tim realized it was from a slim redhead who had one of the most stunning pairs of blue eyes he’d ever seen, but a body with more angles than a stop sign. Tim gritted his teeth and took another swig of his beer. Her interest wasn’t reciprocated, unfortunately, but he would give her a B+ for effort.
“Ah, you found her,” the redhead said, pointing toward the black woman he’d been watching earlier. “If you go over there with a drink or something, chat her up, then I’m sure she’ll give you permission to take me home tonight.” The redhead ran her tongue over her bottom lip in what he assumed was supposed to be a provocative gesture. Tim took another sip from his beer so he wouldn’t laugh in her face.
“Is she your mother or something?” he asked dryly, his Alabama drawl almost sprawling as the alcohol started taking effect. He looked at the redhead with a raised eyebrow. “Your sponsor?”
Her eyes fluttered and her cheeks turned red. He grinned. The woman was much cuter when she blushed.
“Nothing like that,” she assured him, resting her hand on his muscular forearm. He watched her painted-red nails catch some of the dim amber light in the bar as she flexed her fingers. He switched his bottle from his right to left hand, the muscles underneath her fingers cording when he gripped the bottle. This time he didn’t hide his smile when she unsuccessfully stifled her whimper.
“Who is she, then?” Tim asked, staring at the redhead when he really wanted to look back at the booth.
“Our gatekeeper.”
“Gatekeeper?”
“She keeps the losers away from us.”
He raised his eyebrows. “And what makes you think I’m not a loser?”
“Other than the fact I know you wear a trident?” she asked, her blue-eyed gaze roving slowly over his form while her fingers caressed his forearm. “You don’t have the look of a loser.”
A corner of Tim’s full-lipped mouth curved. “Looks can deceive.”
“I’m nothing if not adventurous.”
The redhead smirked and leaned against the bar. Tim drank the final few drops of his beer and set the bottle on the bar in front of him. “What’s her poison?”
“Who, Bevin?”
“Is that her name?” Tim asked, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
“Yeah, and um, nonalcoholic, I know—she’s our DD.”
He nodded and tapped on the bar. When the bartender approached, Tim ordered. “Can I get a Diet Coke and another one of these?” he asked, pointing to the empty beer bottle. A few moments later, both orders appeared before him, and Tim slapped down a ten. “Keep the change,” he drawled, and the bartender nodded thanks.
“Come back and let me know what she says, yeah?” the redhead commanded when Tim slid off the barstool.
Tim didn’t answer her, already stalking toward his quarry.
When full-figured barber Tyler Carver enters GD Fitness for a personal training session, she immediately butts heads with her trainer Gunnar Daniels. Refusing to allow Mr. Just-Walked-off-an-Abercrombie-&-Fitch-Billboard’s rudeness, she gives him a piece of her mind and storms off. Too bad she can’t stop thinking about the gorgeous gray-eyed grump.
Former fashion model-turned-gym-owner Gunnar Daniels, having a day sent express from hell, thinks it can’t get any worse until Tyler Carver, in all her curvy, chocolate glory, takes his breath away the moment he locks eyes with her. Knowing he acted out of character during their session, he apologizes to her. Yet, he wants so much more.
Can Tyler and Gunnar help each other discover that beauty is more than skin deep…that the beauty within is what truly decides the beauty without?
I've also done two interviews just in time for the release: One at Dyanne Davis's Web site and the other at the SORMAG Blog. Check me out!
Thanks so much for your support! I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart!
